Through these walls
by screamKid
Summary: Michael/Lincoln, hurt&comfort, angst, violence, language, adult themes, everything you need for a dark!Fic. Part one of the "Take Me Home" 'Verse. Read & review.
1. Maybe Tomorrow

**This is my first PB fic, I usually write Supernatural so I hope I did these boys justice. Please no flaming, I would much rather constructive criticism. /throws cookies to you all!**

**Disclaimer: All aspects of Prison Break are not mine. I just twist and warp them to suit my liking.**

It wasn't the first time, no. This was one of many times Lincoln Burrows had found himself in a particularly dangerous situation inside the cold, menacing walls of Fox River State Penitentiary that stared relentlessly at him for hours on end, noise ever so close from the mouths of the other inmates, persecuted for different reasons. Lincoln stood, his back pressed against to the wall of his cell, a shank pointed at him; the life-threatening point inches from his kidney, puncturing the skin would have had devastating effects.

Blue eyes and a menacing face entered the cramped cell, followed by a slim, yet muscular body, "leave" was the only word needed for that shank to be stuffed inside blue pants, worn by most, if not all, inmates. The wielder left, sending scornful looks towards the man standing with a shadow covering everything on his face, but his eyes. They look calm, yet steady, almost as if everything inside this man was dead. No emotion or thought were concealed, as if he acted on impulse alone.

That impulse just saved Lincoln's life; a bead of sweat fell from his nose as the relief washed over him. "Thanks." Lincoln said curtly, ignoring the fact that the other man just stood and stared at him. "No problem. My name is Michael Scofield." The man replied, still standing within the shadow. "Ah. Heard of _you,_" Lincoln replied, taking a step toward him "why is it that everyone in this shithole is scared of you?" The man sighed, taking a step out of the shadow, "I was arrested for petty theft, nobody in here is scared of what I've done, but they're scared of what I can do." The man let this sink in for a moment, scanning the hard body standing in front of him, muscles everywhere, a staunch figure, who would want to hurt it? This was Fox River after-all, who wouldn't?

"You said you were done for petty-theft? Same here, 5 years I got in this hole, got 6 months left." Lincoln said, trying to get this man to speak, "Mm. Keep that information in that pretty little head of yours. I need _your _help, can I trust you?" the man replied nonchalantly, taking a step out of the shadow. A blue long-sleeved standard prison shirt loose against his arms, slim but muscular like the rest of him, his short cropped hair a dirty blonde colour. "_With?_" Lincoln asked, stepping forward, "It's a small task. I need a match, just a match." Michael turned and left with no response.

Michael Scofield, a petty thief from the busy streets of New York City, was a good person, aside from doing the things he _had _to do. He acted in theft after his mother died and his father left, to survive. Being thrown around various foster homes, he'd accounted his fair share of horror stories. He was popular with the girls, mainly because of his charm. Michael Scofield could swoon any girl in to _anything _he wanted, though it wasn't common for him to actually sleep with them, due to a disorder he acquired at a young age.

-x-x-x-

Michael Scofield sat in the chapel of the prison, he wasn't necessarily _religious, _but he needed time to get away from the bodies surrounding him all day, every day. Burrows walked in the door as planned, and took a seat beside him. "Here, the match." Burrows said, handing over a small box of 'Redhead's'. Michael took the match out of its box; it's home and struck it, letting it burn for a few seconds before pressing it sharply into his skin – right on the main vain in his wrist. It burned, skin crackled, the match began to sink into the skin and blood began to rise from it, spilling over the newly acquired hole. "What the _fuck?_" Burrows said, turning to leave. "In a few seconds, I will be unconscious. Call the boss, get him here. Now." Scofield said, his wrist and the carpet below him covered in a sticky-red liquid and would soon become a red stain, more drops of bloodshed in Fox River.

Burrows went and got Officer Bellick, who called the infirmary. Michael lay on the floor, unconscious, as he predicted.

-x-x-x-

Dr. Sara Tancredi was the first person Michael saw once he came around, the dizzy-numbness of being unconscious still clung lightly at the edges of his vision, everything blurry and bright.

"I came to say goodbye... You know I get out in two days, I wouldn't be able to see you by then. Goodbye, Sara. Thanks, for everything." For the first time noted that there was an emotion showing through Michael's eyes, admiration, maybe? Sara kept on applying antiseptic, staying silent for a couple moments before asking a question she hadn't dared before now, "What're you planning on doing, ya'know, once you get out of here?" Sara applied a bandage slowly, hoping to get an answer out of Michael. "Never looking back," He replied, focusing on Sara bandaging him "Putting this all behind me. Starting anew, I even have a job interview lined up." Michael smiled a plastic smile.

The whole time Michael sat in the Infirmary, his mind played on Burrows. Imagining walking out with him, but dismissed the thought. Once he left, he left everything here in his cell.

Michael Scofield lay awake on the cold hard _almost _bed-like thing under him, watching intently at the pathetic excuse for a _"bed"_ above him as his mind raced over all the components that made it. Mentally making a list, as he so often did. Michael's mind played on Burrows, silently hoping he could thank the man for unknowingly helping him let the one person he cared about know that he was okay, he was going to be okay, and that because of her, he always would be.

Sara Tancredi was the _only_ reason that when he got out of Fox River, he would stay clean. He would keep his nose clean, and he knew staying out of Fox River was the only way he could show Sara how thankful he really was for all those hours devoted looking for jobs, and even a place to stay.

One person saw the person he was, when nobody else could, that, in itself, is enough.


	2. Getting out

Maybe it mattered, but Lincoln Burrows was sure that it didn't. It was just a simple request, and referring back to his days of 'helping' people, he did as he was asked. It didn't help, though, and still, he wished he'd be able to cross paths with Michael one more time.

Lincoln sat with his head down, ignoring everyone else out in the prison's 'exercise' area. Michael left tomorrow, and Linc couldn't but feel a small pang of regret that he couldn't have gotten to know the man better, there was something about him, some that seemed friendly yet closed off.

What was he thinking? The past 5 years all he was worried about was staying alive, getting back to his son, LJ, and forgetting that he ever stepped inside these walls. And now, he wanted to see another con, just for the sake of seeing him?

As if it were on queue, Lincoln tilted his head toward the unfiltered sunlight, enjoying the colours he saw behind his eyes, opening them he saw Michael crossed the yard in several strides toward him.

"I just wanted to thank you for what you did the other day," Michael began standing in the light, casting a shadow over Lincoln's face. "Ya'know, with the match and all." Lincoln sighed, leaning forward, "Self-harm is usually frowned upon. You'll end up in some mental-health clinic, you know." He joked, a smile tugging at the coners of his mouth and making slight crinkles at egdes of his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I had to see somebody," Michael replied, his eyes not giving away anything, as they didn't the previous day "The only way I could do that was to get into the infirmary." Lincoln looking up, smiling knowingly, "Ah. Dr. Tancredi, I'm guessing?" He asked, Michael just nodded, his eyes betraying him for the first time.

"I don't know why I came over here, to be completely honest. I owe you, even if I am getting out tomorrow. You need me, I'm there." Lincoln smiled at the statement, "I'll hold you to that," He joked, grinning.

The first grin since he arrived in Fox River, since Veronica was murdered.

x-x-x

After collecting his personal affects, Michael stepped outside of Fox River State Penitentiary, "You'll be back," Bellick said, following him out the gates "How are you getting home, or where ever it you're heading?" he then asked, "Dunno, guess I'm walkin', Boss." Michael replied, scratching the back of his neck. "No you're not, Michael. I'll take you." Sara smiled, wearing her normal nurse's white overcoat and some black pants.

The drive went relatively quick, and before Michael knew it, he was staring at a big, two-storey house. A dark mahogony door stood in front of them, "Welcome home, Michael," Sara said, fishing keys out of her handbag and opening the door, "Now, I have a confession to make," She said, turning to him, worry in her eyes "I couldn't exactly find you a place of you're own.. But I figured that I trust you, and you trust me - I think, so you can live here." She smiled, walking in to the house. It wasn't dark, but it wasn't light, either. A white staircase lead to the top level from his left, and an opening to his right, which lead to the kitchen, he guessed. In front of him was a long hall-way, which Sara lead him down, opening a white door. A double bed greeted him, the curtains pulled. Never before had Michael seen such a beautiful sight, a bed that actually looked inviting.

Later in the evening, after Michael had settled in, Sara called him to eat some dinner. Michael took his time and put extra moans and groans into it to emphisize how good it was. Sara giggled at him and swatted him friendly on the shoulder as she cleaned up the plates, but Michael just took them off her, "You cooked, I clean," he smiled, "Hey, Sara?" Sara looked up from collecting the cutlery, she wasn't going to argue, "Yeah, Michael?" She asked, walking over to the sink and dropping the knives and forks in with a metallic thunk. "Thanks. For everything, letting me stay here and-" he waved his hand between him and Sara as if it explained what he wanted to say. Sara smiled warmly, "Yeah, it's okay. Just keep out of trouble and you're more than welcome here."

Sara heard the door open and close, and walked out into the entry, a grin cracked across her face, and she stood on her toes to kiss the dark-haired man who stood between her and the door. She took his hand and lead him to the kitchen, Michael looked up, expecting only to see Sara, and not the handsome man who stood behind her. "Uh, Hi, I'm Michael," Michael stood, stretching out his hand. The man took it, shaking his hand firmly and smiling warmly, "Nick," the man replied.

"So, want some champagne? It's not really mine and Nick's style, but I thought we could have it with dinner, this being a special occasion and all, but I forgot," Sara laughed, turning to the fridge to get the bottle and some glasses once she saw Michael nod.

x-x-x

Lincoln stumbled into his new room, the light buzz softening everything in his vision, like a photo editor had blurred his vision slighty, like he had seen in some people photos in magazines. He pulled off his socks and jeans, and climbed into his bed in his boxer shorts and slid underneath the white covers and into the center of the bed, curling up into a ball and slipping quietly into a deep slumber.

_'You left me Michael, you left and now they want me dead! You did this to me, Michael, nobody else but _you_!' Lincoln screamed, Michael couldn't see him, or anything for that matter, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry!' Michael cried out into the darkness that created a deafening buzz in his ears._

_Michael held Lincoln in his arms, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry!' he cried again, Lincoln's eyes lifeless and cold, his body sticky with blood. Michael begged him to just open his damn eyes, but he didn't._

_Greif ripped through him as he held Lincoln, shaking him and looking in horror as his body twisted and decayed under his touch; like it was him that destroyed Lincoln._

Micheal was ripped from his dream violently, shuddering and shaking, the sheets and comforter twisted and half hanging off the bed.

Sweat stuck lightly at his skin, as he tried to regain his breath, he felt his heart pulsating through his head. Michael took a few moments to get himself under control, all sleep-like symptoms evading him quickly, and he knew sleep was no longer on his agenda.

Michael swung his legs out of the bed, and almost jumped back in suprise, outside his warm and cosy bed was a world made of ice.

x-x-x

Sara awoke early, and slipped out of Nick's arms, and walked drowsily into the ensuite, rubbing at her hair.

Sara turned the cold water on and put her hands in it and the cold liquid ran carelessly through her fingers, then wiping her face with her hands, the shock of the cold ridding her of the after-affects of sleep.

Stepping into the kitchen-slash-loungeroom, she saw Michael sitting in a perculiar position; curled over the kitchen bench top, his body half hanging off the stool. She raised an eyebrow at the position, then stiffled a giggle.

She readied herself for work, then slipped out the door quietly.

Sara pulled her blue sedan into the Fox River employee carpark, and sighed in content. Things were going right, she enjoyed her job, had a decent man in her life, '_Well, two of them, anyway,'_ she thought and opened her door, an officer greeted her with a smiled and opened the gates for her, and in she went. Off to work with "America's Most Feared" she went, oddly happily.

x-x-x

Nick woke Michael up as he made a coffee, not even trying to be quiet. "Morning," Michael managed to say with his groggy mind, he'd only really slept about ten minutes, and was awake when Sara left. Maybe he fell asleep just after she left, or something?

"Yeah, morning," Nick said, his apparant good mood from last night gone. "Everything okay?" Michael asked, sitting up on the stool properly. Nick leaned in close to Michael, and the words that escaped from Nick's lips had him almost in tears laughing, "You had _better_ not have any ideas about Sara," he stated, his old mood back in place of the jealous, angry one "Coffee?". "Um, yeah, black, two sugars," Michael said, his mind sorting through the information just given to him. "Wait, you don't think I look at Sara in, um - _that way_, do you?" Michael asked, and Nick just looked at him as if he'd just answered the question everyone in life had asked at some point "What is the meaning of life?" it just wasn't _as_ important.

"Look, I-uh, um, Sara has been there for me through a lot, I don't _ever_ see myself with her intimately. And besides-" Nick cut him off, "Besides what? You're not that _into _girls?" Nick jokingly prodded, and Michael looked down in shame. "Wait, you aren't that into girls?" Nick repeated, this time more of a question than a statement, a look of shock had begun to set up a momentary camp on his face. "It's not _that_, Nick. I don't really have an attraction to anyone_._ I think love doesn't have to know a gender. It can happen in any situation," Michael said, unsure as to why he was telling a _complete_ stranger this.

x-x-x

Sara sat behind her desk, looking over recent medical records of one Lincoln Burrows, a small frown cascaded down her face as she saw she had a son, a one Lincoln Burrows Jr.

Bellick strolled past, and nodded curtly at her, and she called him to come into her office.

"Could you go and get Lincoln Burrows, please?" Sara asked, and then threw in the extra "Thank you," just incase Bellick wanted to object.

Sara sat as her mind raced over the newly discovered information, that LJ was _Lincoln's _son? That threw her out metaphorically out the window.

Lincoln entered the room, he smiled and said a breif hello, before Sara asked Bellick to wait outside.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sara kicked the conversation off, quite bluntly. "What?" Lincoln asked, genuinly confused, "About LJ," Sara leant her slim figure against the desk behind her, "How do you know about LJ, Sara? Is he okay? I thought-" Sara cut Lincoln off, "You know, if you had of mentioned him, he could be safe right now?" Sara asked, Lincoln's eyes turned curious, and Sara took it as the oppourtunity to go ahead.

"LJ was in my care, for six months. He stayed with me and Nick, but he couldn't stay out of trouble.. So, Child Services came and took him away. Against my will, of course - but if I had of known he was _yours_ I would have fought for adoption, thus keeping him off the streets and out of trouble until you finally got out of here. This is assuming once you got out, you actually _stayed_ out. You've got a knack for trouble,"

Lincoln laughed a little at that, "Do you think you could get him back?" Lincoln asked, bewildered at Sara's words.

"It all depends on where he is right now, if the home he has been placed in is safe, if he likes it, and of course.." Sara's words fell short, and her throat tightened, she wasn't sure how she could say this to Lincoln, "What, Sara? 'Of course' what?" Lincoln asked, looking into her eyes.

Lincoln was a man of _very_ few words. He'd been known to have only spoken a handful of times in his 6 years of inprisonment, only speaking to a guard when he had to. Some called it 'Post Traumatic Stress Disorder', others just called it being anti-social. So Sara was quite suprised.

'_He must care for LJ,' Sara thought to herself._

"If he _wants _to see you, Linc," Sara felt sudden regret saying it as she saw Lincoln's eyes turn dull and glassy.

"He has to agree to be adopted, Linc," Sara wiped a hand through her hair as she spoke.

"He wont," Sara heard Lincoln's voice waver as he spoke, and he stood and began to walk to the door.

"Would you mind it if I spoke to LJ, Linc?" Sara asked, and was thoroughly shocked when Lincoln turned and tears tracks sat on his cheeks, "Sure, it wont change anything, though," Linc turned for the door once again, "Linc, stay," Sara walked towards him, "Just until you've stopped crying. You're image will be ruined," Sara couldn't believe the insensitivity she was exuding, but knew she had to get Lincoln to stay.


	3. Father & Son Relations

LJ sat in a four-seater booth, a cup of coffee snugly between his hands. It was quiet in the small coffee shop, and he hadn't got a significant amount of information from Sara, which made him curious. He took a sip from the coffee, waiting for her to arrive.

"Hello, LJ, long time no see," A womans voice said, and he turned to see Sara, wearing a red button down jacket and some denim jeans. "Sara," LJ nodded. "Hold on a sec, I'll order a coffee seeing as though you couldn't wait to start without me," Sara joked, smiling brightly.

LJ missed that smile, he decided, and then also decided he had his regrets about the way he had treated Sara and Nick.

Sara came back to the booth, nursing a steaming cup in her hands, she smiled at Lj before sitting, placing the cup on the table. "I'm sorry," LJ said, suprising Sara, being suprised was something she'd been feeling a lot, she thought somewhere in the back of her brain.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," Sara insisted, which made LJ feel slightly better. "I'm assuming there was a reason why you asked me here, aside from the good coffee," LJ clearly wanted to get down to why Sara had contacted him after 2 years, _and the way I treated them,_ LJ added in his head.

"Your Dad, LJ. Why didn't you, um, tell me he was in Fox River?" Sara prodded, "I don't have a Dad. I have a _Father_, but no _Dad,_" LJ said quickly, shocking Sara into silence. "Look, I don't know the full story, all I know is that I notice how you're leaning to one side, taking the pressure off your left leg. I am lead to assume that there is a reason why you just looked down, as if you were ashamed as I brought it up. Your Father is no saint, and nor are you or I, but at least thank him for _one thing," _Sara said seriously, lifting her coffee to her mouth and taking a long draw from it.

"What is there to be _thankful for? _He left me out here, to be thrown from home to home, collecting more bruises than any 17 year old kid I know!" LJ's voice rose, but thankfully rush hour hadn't come yet. "He's sent me, LJ. He's asked me to take custody of you until he gets out. We both know you're not safe where you are now, and your Father and I will do anything to see that you are safe. Linc has promised to be the Father he never was when he gets out," Sara was hopeful she'd gotten through to LJ, who was silent for a minute or so, his mind failing at making a consistant thought.

"You sure? Like, completely one-hundred-percent that this is what's _going _happen?" LJ clearly needed reassurance, "Your Dad told me to say this, from him. 'Just have a little faith,' and to give you this," Sara got up from her seat and pulled LJ into a tight hug, and repeated the words Linc told her to pass on to LJ, "Just have a little faith, LJ, just have a little faith,"

x-x-x

Michael pulled into the drive-way that lead up to the place he called home, and noticed Sara was home, he pulled himself out of the car and walked up the steps, and acknowledged how weird it still felt walking into a _house _and not a _cell_.

Michael opened the front door and wandered into the kitchen, greeted by Sara. It seemed a little odd to Michael; living with Sara and Nick, he sort of felt like their son. "Michael, this is LJ," Sara said as a young boy walked out from the bathroom. "Hey," LJ nodded, standing in the kitchen momentarily before remembering he was standing there dressed in only dark denim jeans and a towel on his head, and then heading for the stairs.

"Michael, LJ is Lincoln Burrows' son," Sara said, looking at the empty space where LJ stood moments before, "He's the spitting image of his Father," Michael commented, not sure if he should probe to find out why he was staying with Sara, but then decided if she wanted to tell him; she would.

"Hey, um, Sara?" LJ asked across the living room, where Sara, Michael and himself were sitting watching some reality tv show. Sara made a sound like LJ took as a 'yes, LJ?', so he continued, "I gotta go back to the refuge.. at least to get my clothes and stuff," LJ said, embarrassment thick in his voice, admitting in front of Michael that he _lived in a refuge._

"Oh, yeah. I'll take you, c'mon," Sara smiled and began to rise from her seat, "Oh, Sara, sit back down, I'll take LJ," Michael stood and walked out to the kitchen to get the keys before Sara could object.

Michael rather liked the kid, and even found himself laughing and joking with him, but he couldn't help but miss Lincoln, and found himself mentally abusing himself for it. He'd spoken to Lincoln what? Twice? Three times? and he _missed him?_ It was ridiculous, but being around LJ gave him a small warm glow.

x-x-x

Lincoln was laying inside his cell, staring aimlessly at the bed above him when Bellick came and told him he had a visitor, Linc hoped silently that it was Michael, he didn't know why, though, there was _no_ reason why he'd come back to Fox River just for a friendly chat.

Lincoln was lead to the visitation room, and followed Bellick to where a young man sat, face in his hands. Lincoln sat down, and as he did the young man brought his face from behind the improvised mask. "LJ," Lincoln was now completely lost, not knowing what to say and how to say it. "I'm living with Sara now," LJ wasn't sure was else to say, and the next moment or two were spent in silence, "What Sara said to me, do you promise that when you get out you're going to stick around?" LJ was clearly uncertain, and Linc reached a hand across the table. "Remember when we went on that camping trip? Right before I was sent away from you?" Lincoln asked, provoking happy memories to play in LJ's head and he told Lincoln that he remembered, and Lincoln told him that when he got out of Fox River, LJ was his number one priority, he wanted to see the smile that was unmistakably masked across LJ's face that whole camping trip. "Just have a little faith," Lincoln whispered, squeezing LJ's hand as Bellick came over to cry out 'Time's up, Burrows!' at an unneccesary level of loudness.

Maybe it was normal for a Father to feel this way after seeing his only son, knowing that he'd finally done _something_ right regarding LJ's welfare.

_"Hey LJ, comin' fishing?" Lincoln cried out over the clearing, LJ appeared from a small, one man tent. "Yeah, be right there!" He called back, all smiles._

_Soon after, they got bored of fishing, and Lincoln ended up being pushed into the water by LJ, who laughed and laughed, even while Lincoln picked him up and dove into the water with him in his arms._

Yeah, maybe everything will be okay. Lincoln was sure all he wanted to do was to take LJ home, and forget all the mistakes.

_'If only it were that easy,'_ Lincoln thought to himself as he was escourted to his cell, knowing full-well that he had a lot of work before him.


	4. Nightmares, Fears and Friends

**Chapter notes: **A big, big thank you to my dear friend, James, for the Beta!

I had some trouble writing this chapter, but I hope it goes okay.

Sometimes, the wrong things seem to be the only option left. Sometimes, the ones we love are the ones we desperately need to get away from. It was like these decisions or the people around us are slowly sending us insane. Sometimes, the things we were sure that would never happen actually do. Sometimes, just sometimes...

LJ lay in bed, twisting and turning, his eyes screwed closed, his body trembling and sweat pooled in the dip of his back.

_It wasn't long ago that this world had become so out of hand that it was beyond regain. Trying to pinpoint the moment right before everything had gotten so screwed up, before everyone he loved seemed so far away. Before the decisions he made, and he alone had made, lead him to where he was. Standing alone, in that field. The sound of darkness surrounding him, and a horrible smell filling his nose. LJ just wanted to wake up, he screamed into the thick night air to just _wake_ up!_

But he didn't, he couldn't, he slept through the entire nightmare, and when he awoke it felt like he hadn't even closed his eyes, hadn't even fallen asleep. He showed no physical exertion, though. LJ dragged himself sluggishly to the couch and fell into it, lying on his stomach and staring at the small fibres that made up the carpet.

x-x-x

LJ had been visiting every Tuesday for the past 3 weeks, and Lincoln felt as though he was getting somewhere. That is, until, LJ didn't show up, or he was late; Linc didn't know yet, but he silently begged and begged for him to come.

"Count!" Bellick shouted, and all inmates in Gen. Pop filed into lines outside their respective cells.

_'Just one month to go, Linc, just one month..'_ He thought, looking somewhere deep inside himself to push on. That space inside himself was the love for LJ he had.

x-x-x

Michael wandered into the living-room, and he was surprised to see LJ lying on the couch, staring into nothing.

"Not going to see Linc today?" Michael asked, sitting in the one-seater chair, "LJ?" Michael prodded, it was quite clear that LJ was in his own little world; that Michael knew of with extreme measure. "I can't get there," LJ said, his voice muffled because his mouth was pushed against the cushion of the couch. "I'll talk you, ya'know, if that's the real reason," Michael offered and poked a little.

Michael and LJ had become quite good friends in the time they'd been living together, wrestling and joking, being practically inseparable. Michael felt somewhere deep in his chest this was his way to helping Lincoln out, his way of telling Lincoln that he wasn't on his own.

LJ lifted himself off the couch and left the room. Michael knew how to play it, he'd seen this a few times in the last couple of weeks; he was to wait it out, LJ would come back in a few minutes, dressed and ready to go. It's wasn't that he was predictable, no; it was that Michael was, in one or two ways, the same.

When Michael was a child, in a Foster Home, he was locked in a room for 23 hours a day; only allowed out when it suited Ken, his carer. In the darkness of that room, Michael began to learn to look at _everything_ for answers; thus developing a rare disorder called "Low Latent Inhibition", or LLI.

Michael suspected LJ had it too, though, not to the drastic extend Michael did. Of course Michael had learnt to have his LLI live with him; not Michael live with his LLI. There were some days where his LLI did make things harder, always focusing on things a '_normal person'_ would.

x-x-x

"Burrows, you've got a visitor," Bellick said as he walked into his cell. This had been the routine for the last 3 weeks; Bellick would come and get him from his cell and escort him to the visitation room, where LJ would be sitting, waiting for him.

What surprised him the most, though, was that another man sat with LJ, and a sharp stab of fear hit his chest, then it subsided as Michael turned toward him and flashed a small smile, Linc's heart gave a small jump.

"Hey LJ," Linc said, and Michael stood aside while the two men hugged tightly, but briefly, and Lincoln leant out and grabbed Michael and pulled him into a brief hug as well.

Linc's heart jumped, a little.

"I thought you weren't going to come," Lincoln said, sitting down. "Neither did we, LJ's had quite a night," Michael said, knocking his shoulder against LJ's. "You okay, LJ?" Lincoln sounded genuinely worried, and LJ told him briefly about his dream.

Before they knew it, Bellick was once again standing over them, telling them that time was up. He made a rude remark to Michael, who just flared his nostrils and followed LJ out.

Once again Lincoln had that feeling, the same as the one after every visit he had from LJ. But for some reason, he felt it even more so because Michael was there.

Lincoln mentally cursed himself for being so stupid. Michael was a _man,_ and so was he. Neither was gay, but Linc had found a bubbling attraction to Michael ever since they met in his cell all those months ago.

Linc even found himself thinking about getting out and taking LJ _and_ Michael away from everything. Away from all the hurt and the fear.

x-x-x

Sara arrived home early, Nick was waiting for her with a cooked meal, accompanied by wine all those classy things that a high-star restaurant had.

"Michael and LJ have gone to the movies, we've got the house to ourselves for tonight," Sara felt all tension and stress flow out her feet as Nick took her hand, leading her to the table.

They sat and ate and talked, that connection between them getting stronger and stronger. It felt like the stresses of every-day life were gone.

After their meal, they went and watched a movie, titled: "Dear John".

They didn't actually finish the movie, though. Small, soft touches lead to kisses and larger, more deliberate soft touches.

Nick picked Sara up from the couch and carried her bridle-style up the stairs and into the bedroom. Placing kisses all over her face and shoulders.

Once they reached their destination; the bedroom, Nick pulled off Sara's white coat and dropped it on the floor. Next was his shirt, which he pulled up and over his shoulders, and dropped them in the heap on the floor that was Sara's clothes.

x-x-x

Michael sat in the movie, comfortably numb to his surroundings, not actually watching the movie, but his mind wandering over everything. Michael's physiatrist said it was Obsessive Thinking Disorder, linked with his LLI, and most of them time he didn't even realize he _was_ doing it.

What he should have be seeing was a raunchy sex scene between the main female character, Jess, and the main male character, Brian, but instead his mind played "_what if?'_ situations, involving Lincoln and himself.

The one that was more realistic, though, and the one that kept creeping in was the thought that Michael told Lincoln about what was happening, and Lincoln rejecting him, taking LJ away and never seeing either of them again.

"Mike, movies over, lets go," LJ's voice cut into his thoughts, but he didn't acknowledge them, "Mike?" LJ repeated, this time Mike looked at him and nodded.

Outside in the lobby, Michael and LJ headed for the car, that is until a young girl's rendition of LJ's name was shrieked across the carpark, and in the next minute LJ and the girl's body clashed in a tight hug.

The girl's blonde hair trailed down her back in loose ringlets, and her short skirt even made LJ comment on it. There were introductions and handshakes, then the girl who'd be introduced to Michael as "Sky" was walking into the movie theatre lobby, her blonde hair in a wave behind her.

"So, who was that?" Michael asked as LJ and himself got to the car, "An ex," LJ admitted smiling a little over the hood of the car. "Ah, I can see why she's an ex," Michael laughed as LJ crinkled his nose as if he'd smelt something bad.

Pulling out of the carpark, Michael and LJ laughed and joked. It was almost as if they were bestfriends, until silence broke out.

"Hey, LJ?" Michael asked, looking over momentarily from the road, "Yeah?" LJ rolled his head on the headrest and looked at Michael, "You know you're Dad is really trying, don't you?" Michael didn't understand what sparked the instantaneous curiosity, and he suddenly felt as though he was imposing, and shut his mouth before pushing any further. "I don't remember any birthday where he was there, he's missed most of my life, I don't know how far I can go," LJ said, resting his head against the cool window, "I'm scared,"

"LJ, it's okay to be scared. It's okay to fear that the cycle wont break, that Linc will get out and fuck it all up again," Michael felt big, scared eyes on him and he took his eyes off the road to see them.

It made sense, that LJ would be scared; to Michael it made sense, anyway. Michael was scared everytime Child Services discovered he was being abused, or that they didn't want him. Because, there was always that small chance that the next home was worse.

"I understand, LJ, and I'm always going to be here," Michael said, reaching over and tussling LJ's hair reassuringly.


	5. Release & Freedom

**Authors note: Please, if you have a problem with self-harm, don't read this chapter! If you want to know what happens without reading this chapter, there will be a summary located at the bottom! Also, this chapter is set the day Lincoln gets out of Fox River.**

**A big thank you to Trev, who Beta'd this chapter.**

-**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Sara noted in the back of her mind that the floorboards were freezing cold, and maybe even whispered it to herself absent-mindedly. It wasn't normal that she was awake at this ungodly hour, but she had awoken with a dry mouth and needing a drink, so downstairs she crept to the kitchen.

Water poured into the cup from the faucet, and thats when Sara heard it; the terrified screams from LJ's room.

Sara walked down the hall at a normal pace, sure that it was only a spider or something that had scared him, but saw when she opened the door that it was a thousand times worse; LJ lay face down in the bed, tightly wrapped around a pillow, knuckles white and face red as he screamed into the pillow. "LJ! LJ, are you okay?" Sara dropped the cup she forgot she was holding and rushed to the side of the bed, and sat beside him, rubbing his back.

Then LJ shuddered awake, and the screams stopped, but the incoherent blabbering began, "No, no, no. Come, come come, come, b-back, please?" He repeated over, and Sara stared at him incredulously, thoughts racing and heart hammering.

"LJ," Sara said quietly when the incoherence slowed, her eyes overflowing with worry, "Come talk to me?", all the while still applying those comforting circles of pressure. LJ shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it. "Shower," was the only thing he said, climbing out of bed and into the bathroom.

Steam swept up and around LJ's body as he leant against the cool wall, the contrast between the hot water and the cold tiles was a comfortable feeling; heat one side, cold the other. LJ slid down the wall and sat in the bottom of the shower, his head in his hands, his mind racing, '_whats wrong with me? Whats going on? I'm so fucked..' _he thought, running his hands through his hair tightly, tearing out a few hairs, and hissing at the small pain.

Then he noticed the small razor in the soap holder that Sara used to cut her hair.

LJ picked it up gingerly, looking at it with lifeless eyes.

He'd heard of people who had harmed themselves before, and that some said it made them feel better, or become distracted from the problem. So he decided to try it, taking the small blade between his fore-finger and thumb and skating it across smooth skin.

Blood began to seep out of the small nicks through flesh, mixing with water and creating a reddish-pink water, LJ stared in awe at what he'd done and feeling his fear ebbing away.

LJ closed his eyes tight and wished for the world to go away, because when the world hates you, he thought, I'm going to hate it right back.

x-x-x

_Lincoln lay awake in his cell, he awoke at around 7am every morning for count, but he hadn't really slept at all last night; anxiety and excitement over-rode the need for sleep.._

_The day had come._

_"Burrows, come with me," Bellick said, running Lincoln through the same routine Michael had been through 6 months before._

_Lincoln was handed the clothes he was given when he came in to Fox River 6 years before, and then everything went wrong. Lincoln was handed a box, and inside it was LJ's head, bloody and cold. _

_Lincoln looked away with horror, 'LJ! LJ?' he screamed into open air, but nobody seemed to hear him. Suddenly Michael was there, mounted on the wall, looking down at him and smiled as hundreds of bullets ripped through his face, stomach and chest._

"Linc? Linc?" David Apolskies said, his face light with sweat, Lincoln just opened his eyes and rolled over to see the other man looking at him, "You alright?" He asked, looking more like he just wanted Linc to shut up. Linc just looked at David like he was stupid, before rolling back over, memories of the dream taking over his head.

"You get out today, don't you?" David asked, he didn't really care that he was going to get out, more so that he was worried with who he would be stuck with as a cellmate. Lincoln nodded, his oath of silence would be seen through until he _was_ out of here.

x-x-x

Michael sat in the car with LJ outside Fox River when he remembered what he said to Sara in the Infirmary two days before he got out, _'Never looking back, putting this place behind me,"_ he recalled saying, and now look where he was. Waiting outside the Jail with a 17 year old kid, who - not that he minded it - followed him everywhere, for a man that he'd become quite close to and perhaps even harboured feelings for, over the last six months.

Michael opened the car door, it groaned under the spontanious command, and he stepped out, LJ following him quickly, taking a seat next to Michael on the hood of the car.

Excitement and nerves clung tightly in the air between the two men, but another emotion came into the mix when LJ's sleeve rode up slightly, revealing two or three thin cuts, though, Michael couldn't quite put his finger on what that emotion was.

"LJ, what is that?" Michael asked, nodding toward the unclothed wrist, "Nothing," LJ replied, sliding the sleeve down and concealing the hurt. "Look, I know about the nightmares," Michael gently prodded, not sure what he should do; desperately wanting to make it all better, wanting to take LJ in his arms and promise it would all be okay, but knew he couldn't. "Don't worry, it's the first time I've done it," LJ made it sound like there was nothing wrong with it, and Michael knew he couldn't push it further.

Michael open his mouth as if to speak, but was cut off when Lincoln stepped outside with Bellick, who unlocked his handcuffs and watched him walk toward LJ and Michael.

"Please, don't say anything, I promise I'll explain it later," LJ whispered before smiling brightly at Lincoln who brought him into a tight hug.

"Ready to go, Linc?" Michael asked, after a tight hug shared between them, "Yeah, I was ready to go when I went in," Lincoln joked, smiling at Michael brightly.

It made his stomach flutter; seeing that smile. But the fluttering feeling was soon pushed aside by guilt. Guilt that he hadn't taken care of LJ, like he'd promised.

x-x-x

LJ lay on the roof of the two storey house, looking up at the stars and oddly feeling that he wasn't alone; the stars were looking down at him, blinking brightly. "Fucking idiot," he whispered at himself scornfully.

"LJ?" Michael's voice came from the window which he'd climbed out of, then his head popped up over the guttering and he hauled himself up, on to the tiled roof, "Hey," Michael said brightly, laying next to LJ, who just looked at him.

"Figured we'd better talk about what happened today," Michael didn't want to, didn't want to face that someone he cared about was doing this, but knew LJ saw no problem. "Why?" LJ asked, his eyes scanning the night sky, "'Cause, we've just gotta. We can't ignore it," LJ didn't understand, and it felt like Michael just _wanted_ the nightmares to come.

"I wont do it anymore, can we leave it at that?" LJ asked, and he let out a breath he forgot he was holding when Michael said yes.

LJ and Michael continued to lay on the roof, lost in their own thoughts.

LJ was happy, his Dad was back and he couldn't ask for more. But he couldn't get it why Michael and his Father spent so much time together.

LJ got on his feet and began to walk to the edge of the roof, said a quick goodbye and then was inside the house within minutes.

x-x-x

Michael knew somewhere in his overly-active mind that this was only the start of something, but he couldn't help but be a little intimidated by Lincoln. Michael had spent the last 6 months with Sara and Nick, then later LJ, and now Linc was on the scene he wasn't sure what to do, though, he knew if he ever saw Linc walk away, he'd probably follow like a lost puppy.

"Yeah, things are great," he muttered to himself in his most cheerful tone.

**x-x-x-x**

**Chapter Summary, for those who didn't read: **Lincoln gets out of Fox River, LJ has resorted to self-harm after his night terrors become unbearable, Michael is still mentally cursing himself for the way he feels toward Lincoln, and Lincoln is doing the same.

**PLEASE REVIEW. 5 Chapters and no reviews, at all. It's annoying me. (Constructive critisicm only, please!)**

**You guys, my readers, control where this story goes. Think something is not right, or that something should happen? Leave me a review and tell me what it is **_**you**_** think should happen!**

**- colourfuloverdose.**

.


	6. A Single Kiss Speaks a Thousand Words

**Authors Note: **This didn't take me long to finish, I guess the little gift I have left you guys at the bottom gave me inspiration.

"Nick's going on a camping trip for two weeks, you think you'd like to go?" Sara asked LJ, who'd become almost house-bound since Lincoln got out of Fox River a month ago, staying at Lincoln's side where ever he went. LJ had looked up at Lincoln, who was reading the daily newspaper, "I-um, yeah, maybe," LJ had stammered.

Sara and Lincoln had already had the conversation regarding LJ's attachment to Linc, and they decided it had become unhealthy, so Nick had offered to take him on a camping trip, and much to everyone's suprise, LJ had obliged after thinking about it for a few days.

x-x-x

LJ and Nick got in their respective seats in the car, after saying their goodbyes, and drove towards the freeway, speeding along it, all was quiet except for the radio.

"I know you didn't exactly _want _to come, but we're gonna have fun, I promise," Nick said, smiling from the driver's seat, "Yeah, I know," LJ replied, resting his head on the window and letting his mind wander.

LJ had acknowledged that his nightmares had gone since the first time he'd harmed himself, and each night before he went to bed he acted in the same manner he had that night in the shower, and now, driving in the car so far away from his Father, LJ was terrified that while he was gone, Lincoln would mess up again and end up back in Fox River.

LJ felt oddly okay when he thought that Lincoln was with Michael, and silently promised himself that; _Michael will take care of Dad._

x-x-x

Michael, Lincoln and Sara had agreed on going to the beach, it was a perfect day for it, and with LJ and Nick out on their camping trip, the house felt pretty empty.

They'd taken Michael's car out to the beach. Once there, Sara had seperated with the two men to go and buy some lunch.

Michael and Lincoln sat on the sand, looking out toward sea. Michael was pushed on his side by a Lincoln who thought he was a ninja, and the two began to wrestle.

Their bodies had entwined together in wrestling moves, Lincoln pinning Michael down, who couldn't help but notice the way Lincoln's top lip glistened with sweat, and in that moment Michael looked into Lincoln's eyes, and Lincoln acted like a mirror, looking deep into his own.

"Hey, you two, break it up!" Sara laughed, unconsciously disrupting the eye-gazing that was happening, in her arms she cradled some steaming hot fish and chips, Michael tore his eyes away from Lincoln's to look at Sara, untangled himself from the strong hold that he didn't notice Lincoln had him in.

Michael didn't notice he was hungry until he smelt the food, his stomach growling in protest, he laughed at the embarrassment, noticing how Lincoln wouldn't look him in the eye.

The group of three ate and talked about everything, from cars to the news, and everyone was generally happy, except Michael who couldn't get his head around Lincoln's green eyes, a beautiful contrast to his dark hair.

After finishing their lunch, and playing around in the water and building random things with sand, Michael, Lincoln and Sara walked back towards the car, content with the day's events, the sun was setting and once they reached the hill, on which the car was parked, they all turned and sat on the hood of the car; watching the sun descend behind the ocean, creating pink splashes through the few clouds high in the sky.

x-x-x

The drive had been fun, LJ and Nick decided once they'd reached the destination; a small clearing away from civilization, they'd set up camp and the fire was burning brightly, licking at the air; creating dancing shadows on Nick's face that made LJ laugh. It was a beautiful night, the sky was clear and the moon and the stars were sitting high in the sky, shining brightly.

It wasn't cold, though, LJ was shivering. Nick had told him that he was going to hit the sack a few minutes earlier, and LJ told him he'd be in within the hour.

LJ's fear went from minimal to unbearable within the minutes Nick had gone to bed, and he could hear Nick snoring lightly in his sleeping state.

LJ found himself walking toward the car, and opening the door; digging around in the glove box for something,_ anything_ to make the fear go away. He knew somewhere inside himself that everything was okay and that Michael would be taking care of his Father, but the fear just kept coming in waves and waves, making him break out in a slight sweat.

LJ's hand stumbled across for what he was looking for; the knife Nick had used to cut the meat for their dinner.

x-x-x

Nick slipped back into a half-awake state, and looked over to find LJ's sleeping bag empty, so he pulled on some pants and his boots and climbed out of the tent, and walked over to the LJ shaped shadow, sitting on a rock LJ was doubled over, his head between his knees.

"You okay?" Nick asked, sitting beside LJ, and noticing the knife that sat between them, picking it up quietly, he looked at it and saw it had blood on the blade. "LJ?" Nick asked again, scanning his brain for anything he might have done to warrant being ignored.

Then he saw it; the sticky red coating on his arms, and looked at it in disbelief, pulling LJ into his arms and carrying him to the car where he inspected the wounds.

LJ didn't make a sound as Nick got out the medical kit, fishing around inside it for the Steri-Strips, anti-bacterial wipes and a bandage. Nick knew some of them did need real stitches, but didn't want to put LJ through more, so instead he carried him to bed and LJ layed there, falling asleep almost instantly.

x-x-x

Lincoln's cell rang loudly, pulling him from his slumber. Him and Michael had been watching a movie, and they must have dozed off at some point. Lincoln's head was rested on Michael's side when the phone rang through his dream.

Lincoln sat up, and reached over to answer his phone.

"Hello?" Lincoln said, rubbing his eyes, trying to focus them, from then on all Michael heard was Lincoln's side of the conversation, from what he'd gained LJ had harmed himself again, that Nick had dressed his arms and put him to bed. "Thanks, Nick, really, thank you," Lincoln said before his phone snapped shut and he put his head in his hands, arms resting on his knees.

Michael lay on the lounge next to Lincoln, looking up at the other man, a slice of regret swiped through him as he recalled LJ promising to not cut anymore, and Michael had left it at that.

Michael rose from his half-lying position and slipped an arm around Lincoln, and pulled him close. "Is LJ okay?" Michael asked, and Linc shook his head; signalling that, no he wasn't. "I thought the trip would be good for him," Lincoln sobbed, and Michael pressed a kiss to the side of his head sub-consciously, and helped him to his feet, and heading towards Lincoln's room.

Michael undressed Lincoln, who by now had no idea what was going on; anxiety and stress flowing thickly in his veins, over-taking the way he normally functioned. Michael lowered Lincoln into bed, pulling the blanket over his body - which Michael still took _alot_ of notice of, even in the moments events.

As Michael turned to leave, Lincoln spoke words he never thought he'd hear; "Stay, Michael? Please, stay?"

Michael turned and layed down in the bed next to Lincoln, who snuggled closer and Michael slipped his arm around his waist.

Lincoln turned to face Michael, and leant in and kissed him softly, it was breif but still sent both their minds reeling.

"W-what?" Michael stammered, only to be told to shut up by Lincoln, who rolled onto his side and closed his eyes tight, pretending to be asleep; cursing himself more than ever for his stupidity.

**Review, review, review!**


	7. Lunch, a Kiss, and a Mental Breakdown

**Authors note:** Sorry this chapter took longer than usual to post, I've been procrastinating - playing MMORPG games. This chapter contains a bit of fluff, not my usual type, but hey, they boys just make you wanna do it. I thought I'd better get this up asap, so this chapter hasn't been Beta'd, if you find a mistake please review and give to me; so I can fix it up. Thanks!

The days following the night of the kiss shared between Lincoln and Michael were awkward, Michael didn't want Lincoln to feel awkward, considering LJ's current state; still not talking to anyone and only eating when Lincoln made him. It seemed that only Lincoln were able to reach LJ, which was a given; being his Father and all.

Michael had thought over it carefully for the past two days, and was now sure that he _had_ wanted the kiss and he _did_ want Lincoln to know it, too.

Michael sat at the kitchen table drinking a coffee and eating some toast, Lincoln across from him, not sure how to address this sort of situation.

"We need to talk, Linc," He blurted out, leaning forward, and when Lincoln replied his, "So, talk," Michael let out a breath he didn't remember taking. "The other night, the, uh," Michael was sure how to say it, and Lincoln looked up from the paper he was so interested in moments before, and cocked an eyebrow, "Geez, spit it out, Mike," Lincoln laughed, and that calmed Michael down. "The, uh-" Michael was cut off by Lincoln, who just said it for him; "The kiss,", and Michael nodded.

"Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, it didn't mean anything on your part, and I wasn't thinking right, and-" Linc started blabbering, and Michael cut through the string of sentences falling from his mouth, "It's okay. I just wanted to know that we're cool," Michael picked up his ceramic cup, containing still-hot coffee and sipped at it like a child.

"We're cool," Lincoln nodded, before suggesting they go out to the board walk for lunch, Michael agreed and Lincoln went up and asked LJ if he would like to come; the answer was obvious, a plain "No." he'd said, before waving Lincoln away.

"He doesn't want to come, maybe we shouldn't go," Lincoln's brow was creased like it did when he was deep in thought. "Want me to speak to him?" Michael offered and Linc shook his head, picking up his keys and yelling out at LJ, "Last chance, LJ!" and waited for a reply, when none came, he picked up his keys and the two men filed out of the door and into the car.

The drive was only short, and things with Lincoln seemed back to the way it was before; laughing and joking, friendly smiles and rip-offs.

Lincoln had finished his Wonton Soup, and looked around the resturant; it was busy but relaxed, it was decorated with things from the Chinease culture, a bright display of kimono's of each colour of the rainbow were on the wall furthest from them, looking out at the ocean.

Michael finished his Honey Chicken Combo shortly after Lincoln, Michael paid for the lunch and thanked the old lady.

"Lets go walk on the beach," Michael grinned, and Lincoln agreed with a curt nod.

The sun was setting by the time Michael and Lincoln had reached the other side of the beach, standing underneath the boardwalk, watching over the water. "It's funny," Michael commented, and Lincoln looked at him with a cocked brow, "Oh, it just feels like this is almost a date," Lincoln laughed at that, and Michael kicked sand on his feet. "Yeah, it does," Lincoln then agreed, flashing white teeth Michael's way.

Michael wanted to tell Lincoln that he'd wanted _that_ kiss, and it him around 5 minutes to conjure up the courage, "Hey, Linc?" Michael said once they'd taken a seat beside each other, Lincoln looked at him, urging him on, "You know how said '_it didn't mean anything on your part'_, well, I-uh, it did, um, mean something, I mean, it did mean something to me." Michael struggled getting what he wanted to say to roll of his tounge, and his jaw kept flapping.

Every word was caught in Lincoln's mouth as he stole a chaste kiss.

x-x-x

Sara was suprised when Michael and Lincoln came back, both sporting smiles despite LJ walking around the house like a depressed ghost; leaving no mark that he was ever there. He'd begun to come socially responsive again, murmering comments when someone asked him something. No-one was prepared to force him, he had to do in his own time and relise that nobody was going anywhere.

Sara busied herself while Michael, Lincoln and LJ cleaned up around the house, LJ didn't do much, but at least he picked up the dirty washing from his room and took it to the laundry, and stuck it in the washing machine.

She stirred the stir-fry she was cooking, throwing the wash-cloth over shoulder. "Dinner's ready!" She called out, and in a few minutes Michael and Lincoln were sitting at the table. "Is LJ eating?" Sara asked, directed at Lincoln, "I dunno, I'll go up and ask him," Lincoln got up from the table and disappeared through the entry of the house, up the stairs that lead to LJ's room and Sara and Nick's room.

"So, whats got you glowing like a teen girl who's got a crush on the football star?" Sara asked, dishing out the stiry-fry.

Michael wasn't sure if he should tell Sara, without Lincoln knowing, but he did anyway, "We kissed," he said, and Sara looked at him weirdly, "Who?" She asked, sitting down, "Lincoln and me," Michael was bewildered by the response he was given; expecting Sara to yell at him, shout, scream and kick him out of the house for his crush on Lincoln, assuming she'd think he was gay, when he wasn't, or was, he didn't really know anymore.

Sara congratulated him just in time before two sets of footfalls thudded above them, and descended down the stairs.

Lincoln appeared first, followed by LJ who _smiled_? At them all, Sara and Lincoln greeted him to the table, where he sat and engaged in conversation.

Sara was impressed; what ever it was Linc had done, it had worked.

x-x-x

After dinner, Michael and Lincoln slumped into the couch and watching some boring TV, a beer in each man's hand. Neither man spoke of the kiss, or even the day in general; neither felt like they had to. As the night progessed on, the distance between them on the lounge was closed and their bodies were touching at the sides, Michael looked at Lincoln and beamed, he felt like he was falling into the cliche` of "it felt so wrong it was almost right".

He could have cursed him for it before Lincoln turned and pressed his soft lips to Michael's, satisfied by the waves of goosebumps running down his body; yet couldn't define them as fear, or anticipation. Lincoln rolled out of the kiss like he really didn't want to, pausing with his lips centimetres from Michael's as if he wanted to keep going, then decided he didn't.

That grin he pulled when he looked at Michael made his heart stutter, then as if on queue, his LLI went insane, taking over his mind, making compulsive lists of what was right and what was wrong about what they were doing.

Lincoln looked on as Michael shook violently, his eyes glassy and like he was in a deep trancem whispering incoherent things over and over.

Lincoln pulled Michael into his arms and held him there, his own mind racing at a thousand times it's normal activity, making comforting sounds he didn't even know his vocal chords could make.


	8. Hurt, The Beach, and a Chef

Lincoln had asked Sara about the attack, and Sara told him that she thought that he should ask Michael, so there he stood, in front of Michael as he explained everything about his LLI.

Lincoln understood, now, how Michael zoned out, how sometimes he looked as though he was concentrating so hard, but inside he was wishing he'd just _stop thinking._

Michael's eyes began to glaze over as he spoke, and Lincoln saw it before it hit, "Michael, slow down," and with that, Michael seemed to slip out of the trance.

x-x-x

Sara sat in her office, thumbing through her patients through the day when Theodore "T-Bag" Bagwell walked through the door, cuffed, with Bellick closely behind.

"Ah, Dr. Tancreadi," He breathed in his accent - looking her up and down, "Theodore," She nodded, signalling him to take a seat, which he did. Bellick looked at her as if to say, _"I'm not leaving,"_ and Sara agreed with a small nod.

Sara was halfway through her check-up with Theodore when those sirens went off, and Bellick and the other guards that were normally positioned in the Infirmary left without a word, rushing to another cell-block.

Sara noted in her head that until the guards came back, she should take all precautions - she knew T-Bagg well enough to know that his mind just wasn't on his medical check-up.

But it still suprised her when he leapt from his seat and grabbed her by the throat, she gasped and T-Bagg got a dark look upon his face; and Sara knew what was about to happen, but couldn't help but to pleade.

T-Bagg would have none of that, he threw her against the desk and reefed the black pants she was wearing down, exposing her clothed bum, and stood there for a moment as Sara began sobbing, taking it all in. "Why, Miss Tancreadi, do you cry?" He asked, slowly removing her underwear, and pulling himself out of his prison-blue pants he wore.

Sara sobbed with fear, unable to move, unable to call for help. The sirens rang unforgivably loud in her ears, and she focused on that while T-Bagg did what he did - be a predator, nobody was ever safe when it came to T-Bagg.

x-x-x

LJ was sitting at the table when Sara arrived home, Michael and Lincoln had gone out shopping or something.

When LJ saw Sara, his heart stopped beating for a moment. Her lip was cut, bruises around her neck accompanied by shell-shocked eyes. "Sara.. what... what happened?" Got up and walked towards her, Sara just put up her hands in defeat and walked upstairs.

LJ stood frozen for a moment, staring at the space where Sara stood moments ago; unsure whether to follow her, call his Father, or just let her be.

He decided on letting her be, and busied himself looking for one of Sara's old cookbooks, thinking he'd cook dinner and take the stress off Sara.

LJ looked through the cabnet, and pulled out and old book; blowing the dust off it, there was neat print on the front that read _"Laura's Cook Book", _LJ didn't know who Laura was - but apparantly she was quite a cook, LJ decided once he'd opened it and saw little annotations on all of the pages, they all looked so complicated, so LJ kept searching and come across a recipe for a basic roast and dish, serving six.

LJ went to work, pulling out all the ingredients needed, although it took him about 10 minutes to figure out _how the oven worked_, he was quite proud. The vegetables were in a pot on the stove, boiling away.`

LJ decided to go watch some tv, keeping a keen eye on time so he'd know when to get the roast out, and when to stop boiling the vegies.

x-x-x

Sara sat on the floor of the shower, scrubbing at herself relentlessly, empty bottles scattered carelessly around the bathroom. She'd used soap, shampoo, conditioner, shaving cream, nail polish remover and a brush, her body red and aching - yet she couldn't get the feeling of being so dirty off.

Sara stepped out of the shower, leaving the warm spray momentarily before returning with a tube of toothpaste, emptying it into her hand she began scrubbing at herself again, she no longer cried - she _couldn't_, as much as she wanted to. It was like her tear ducts had become annoyingly numb.

"Fucking hell," Sara muttered, the feeling of being so dirty becoming so intense, now spreading more across her skin.

Sara lay in the shower, her head laying heavily on the tiles of the floor; staring at the water pouring down the drain, she saw her soul doing the same.

x-x-x

Michael and Lincoln had been out shopping all day, buying LJ some news clothes, food and other items that seemed good at the time.

The beach was Lincoln's favourite place - and it seemed everything he and Michael went out together, they ended up there

Michael had decided he liked Lincoln's smile, even when he was smiling at someone else, but even more when it was directed at him.

Michael's feeling had developed at a scary pace, catching himself staring at Linc and wondering what it would be like to see him naked, to feel the heat of his body pressed up against him in a warm embrace, to have him all to himself, snuggling into his neck when he wanted to shut the rest of the world out.

To have him there when his brain went into over-drive, to make the feeling inside him that something no longer worked to dissipate.

"I miss surfing," Linc commented as they walked across the beach, sand filtering through his toes, "I've never surfed.. I was never really close enough to a beach for it," Lincoln's eyes widened at that - and he turned from Michael and ran up the beach, after calling "be right back!" over his shoulder.

Michael sat on the sand, watching the sun begin to descend; something he never really quite got over, something to beautiful get so simple.

Lincoln returned with a surfboard tucked tightly underneath his muscular arms, and Michael knew exactly what he was thinking by the mischeivous grin placed so carefully on his face.

Michael couldn't really get the hang of surfing - but he _did _get the hang of watching the way Linc's body moved, and it created a familiar weight in his crotch, so he stayed in the water till it subsided; finding it rather difficult to will it down because he kept watching.

Lincoln waded through the water towards the shore, gently nudging the board in the right direction as it floated in the ocean, and Michael couldn't take his eyes off him, the way the water dripped from his nose, the way his shorts clung to his lightly haired legs with water, and even the way his fair flicked back slightly.

Lincoln stood over Michael and dripped the cool water all over Michael's now dry skin, and Michael squirmed in torture.

Michael also decided he liked Lincoln's lips when they were wet, creating a comfortable contrast when their lips touched gingerly - a ghosted promise that Linc would _always_ be there.


	9. Clarity and Understanding

**Authors note: **I need reviews, seriously. I'm started to lose my motivation for this story - and I don't want that to happen 'cause I like where it's going. Sorry about last chapter and not having a warning, I completely forgot. So for those whom I may of offended, I'm very, very sorry!

On with the chapter...

x-x-x

Lincoln walked through the door of the house in which they lived, with Michael following closely behind. Dinner was on the table, steaming away, a nice roast accompanied by four wine glasses, '_I guess Nick isn't coming home tonight,' _Lincoln thought distantly, before LJ came tearing down the stairs, his eyes carrying excess amounts of worry, "Sara's been in the shower for hours, I knocked but she's not answering," LJ raced, "She came home with cuts and bruises all over but she wouldn't talk about it,"

Michael rushed up the stairs and to the bathroom, turning the knob only to find that Sara had locked it. Heart beating heavily in his ears, he sighed with frustration and lifted the little switch that could unlock the door from the outside, and gasped in horror when he saw what he did; Sara laying on the floor of the shower, her legs bloody, mixing in with the suds surrounding her body.

She wasn't dead, but more in like a catatonic state, Michael scooped her up in his arms, her body wet and slippery, "Get a towel, LJ, go get her bed ready, turn the electric blanket on," with that, Lincoln and LJ disappeared from the doorway; Michael looking into Sara's eyes, blank and dead as a shark.

x-x-x

LJ, Michael and Lincoln ate in silence, each in their own little world. Lincoln kept a conscious eye on Michael, just to make sure he doesn't slip in to one of his traces, and Michael noticed every time he glanced over at him.

Michael had put Sara to bed, where she'd whispered a small apology that Michael wasn't sure he'd heard.

Michael ate, as they all did, sure that none of they actually had an _appetite_, but still wanting to show to LJ that they were grateful that he'd taken it upon himself to cook a nice dinner for them to come home to, and they were rather happy with it, considering.

He'd felt it coming before it did, and he had to stop it, nobody needed more drama today, so he cut his hand with a knife, making it look accidental, "Shit," he gasped, standing to get a towel. "You alright?" Lincoln asked, and Michael nodded.

It was known that Michael had self-mutilated when he was younger - before he was diagnosed with his LLI and learning ways to cope, and now he only ever used that coping mechanism when he truely _had_ to.

After finishing their meal, Michael stood over the sink as he washed the dishes slowly, staring out the window into blank, black space. "Hey," Lincoln said slowly as he wrapped his arms around Michael's waist, and considering everything that was going on, he smiled and turned in Linc's arms.

"Hey," Michael returned, looking into those soulful brown eyes, "You okay?" followed, and Michael looked down as he asked, balls of Linc's shirt twisted up in Michael's fists, hanging lazily at his Linc's sides. "Was just about to ask you the same thing," Linc supressed a smile, a smile that spoke how weird it was that they thought alike. Michael smiled too; "Yeah, I guess so. Just worried about Sara, it's worse not knowing what's happened to her and then finding here like that..." Michael's words failed him, and he just looked up into Linc's eyes - watching him, seeing the worry in his eyes from the reflection in Lincoln's.

Michael wished the whole world would just _stop_, that everyone he loved would stop getting hurt all the time, that some day he and Lincoln could be _normal,_ like every other fucker out there.

That wasn't going to happen anytime soon, he acknowledged with a shakey sigh.

x-x-x

It felt like the whole world was spinning when Sara awoke sharply, gasping for air and throwing her arms around.

There were hands, _so many hands, _touching, grabbing, scratching. A thin layer of sweat lay thinly on her skin, cooling in the night air.

The window above the bed was open; she couldn't remember if Michael had opened it or not and became paranoid, closing it without looking out it; she knew she was an immitation of a young child, scared to look out the window in case they saw a face, she didn't care much, though.

Nick wasn't home. Sara decided it was a good thing before lightly sneaking out bedroom door and down the stairs.

The loungeroom light was on, and she could hear the lame tv show playing as she neared, poking her head around the corner.

Lincoln looked up at her, and smiled warmly. Michael, LJ, Lincoln and Nick had decided via a call that was put on loudspeaker, to let Sara tell them when _she_ felt up to it, 'til then, they had to make her as comfortable as possible, and as much as Nick wanted to come home and just hold Sara in his arms, he knew that would make Sara worse, or even angry at him for treating her like a broken toy.

"Hungry?" Lincoln asked, and Michael and LJ looked up at her, each smiling their own smile. "I-um.. yeah, a little," Sara followed her head; moving her body inside the loungeroom. "LJ made dinner," Lincoln said, and Sara looked at LJ incredelously, who just hid his eyes behind his hair as he blushed. "I'll heat it up," Lincoln laughed, moving past Sara and into the kitchen.

x-x-x

Michael and Lincoln had retreated to their respective beds, and LJ sat on the roof of the house alone - thinking aimlessly and looking at the stars. He had begun to notice the closeness of his Father and Michael, and oddly it didn't phase him. With everything going on, it didn't seem important - and to be competely honest with himself, he didn't think it would even with all this wasn't going on.

Lincoln was his Father - Michael like the uncle he never had.

"Hey, LJ," Sara said gruffly and she pulled herself over the guttering that surrounded the roof of the house, it took a second for LJ to register it, "Hey," LJ smiled, shifting his position.

"It's pretty out here at night," Sara said as she sat on the cold tiles, wrapping her arms around herself "Too bad it's cold," she laughed; LJ agreed with a nod and a smile.

"I'm sorry that you had to see what you did," Sara's voice was riddled with an apologetic tone, "Seen worse," LJ looked at Sara, who was staring out into the dark violet sky, stars scattered across the velvety space with careless abandon. "Last time I was in juvi, right after I left here, I saw a kid, he was about twelve, get stabbed repeatedly in the face, arms and chest.. I had to sit and watch as he bled out," LJ said, no emotion in his voice.

"Oh, LJ.." Sara began, opening her mouth and when words failed her, she closed her it again. "So, yeah, I've seen worse, and what ever has happened, we'll work through," LJ spoke in an optimistic tune. Sara stayed quiet at that, not yet sure whether if she could force herself to relive it again as she spoke; so she smiled against the moonlight glowing gracefully on her skin, her blueish-green bruise on her cheek barely visable in the half-light.

"Hey, Sara?" LJ asked, turning to look at her face, hoping she'd turn and look at him, too. "Yeah?" She answered, turning to look at him, too. "You know my Dad and Michael? They're more than what they appear, aren't they?" He asked, smiling a little, "How do you mean?" Sara asked, in her head she knew _exactly_ what he was talking about, but didn't know what if she should tell him or not; or leave it to Linc and Michael. "They're.. a lot closer, almost intimately, you know?" LJ said, smiling.

Sara knew to LJ, Lincoln deserved happiness, even if it were found with another man. From that moment on, her respect for LJ skyrocketed.


	10. Blood was always a fascinating colour

**Authors note: **Chapter 10 is up! This chapter features quite some gory content, self harm and LJ flipping out at Michael for Michael and his Father's relationship!

**Please, I need reviews! Constructive critisicm only, please! (This story DOES include male/male relationships, don't like? Then you shouldn't be on chapter 10!)**

**_On with the story.._**

**_x-x-x_**

Michael sat with his head against the cool glass door, completely lost. Before he had become a street-kid, he was wealthy; his Father a lawyer and his mother a dentist. Then they died, and Michael's Uncle got everything that belonged to them; including him.

Until his first hospitilization; where he was moved into the Peterson's home, they were lovely enough, until Mr. Peterson had a drink, then he became violent. Metorphorically speaking, Mrs. Peterson didn't really have a voice.

Michael had been sitting with his head against this door since about 4am and the sun had begun it's job a couple minutes ago - lighting up the world in which he lived, but at the same time he lived inside his head, sorting through the filing system until he found what he wanted.

LJ came around the corner, "What the fuck are you doing, Michael?" he said, grabbing inside the fridge for milk, then in the cupboard for a cup.

What ripped Michael from his obsessive-compulsive day dreaming was the sound of glass smashing. "Fuck this!" LJ had yelled after spilling some milk, then proceeded with throwing the cup at the nearest wall in a split second of rage.

"Woah, LJ!" Michael yelled, slipping past him to get the broom and a dust-pan. "What?" LJ yelled, clearly in a worse mood than originally thought; turning to Michael with an evil look in his eye, Michael just acted on the first thing that came into his head, "What the fuck is wrong?" he asked, and an evil look began to descend on LJ's face: "You! You think I don't know? About you and my Dad?" He screamed, Michael taking a step backwards as if the words had taken a physical blow.

"LJ! What's brought all this _on?_" Lincoln yelled as his came down the stairs, obviously awoken by the screaming match taking place a few doors away.

"It's not you I have a problem with, _Dad,"_ LJ said, "it's _him,"_ LJ snarled before starting towards the front door. "Wait, LJ," Michael swallowed the lump in his throat, only it doubled in size when LJ screamed at him: "Dont! I hate you!", then the door slammed and Michael and Lincoln both just stared at the closed door; a closed argument.

Michael didn't want to look at Lincoln, but felt his eyes moving to look upon him; and Lincoln's face just read '_confusion'._ "I didn't do anything, I swear. I was just sitting over there on floor.." Michael's voice trailed away, "Thinking?" Lincoln offered and Michael nodded.

"You okay?" Lincoln asked as he pressed his lips against Michael's; reassurance in the form of affection.

x-x-x

Once outside the house, LJ walked with no particular notion of where he was going, but was immensly confused with the sudden hatred for Michael. It was only a couple days ago he was smiling on the roof of the house with Sara, talking about it and not caring, just that they were happy.

The sudden exhale brought LJ back to the present, and he was standing on the corner of Fitz Street, looking down the seemingly deserted road that led to Fox River. I didn't look so bad, why did his Dad and Michael never want to go back in there?

LJ acknowledged that he _wanted to go to fox river?_ '_What. The. Fuck?' _He thought to himself distantly, before turning on his heel and walked back toward the way he came.

When LJ came around the corner to his street, all the cars were gone - except Sara's, of course, so when he opened the door he was suprised to see Michael leaning against the kitchen tabletop, so he went right upstairs and locked his bedroom door behind him, and leant on it with all his weight, sliding slowly down the bottom his mind began to race at an incredible speed.

'_They all hate you, they're all going to leave you on your own. Again. And it's all your fault.' _These thoughts were the most reccourant, and LJ hated it, but the feeling inside him grew and grew to the point where he felt like a tyre that was about to explode.

'_Release! Release!'_ His brain screamed, and he dragged his feet across the floor to his chest of drawers, opening the bottom one and pulling one of Nick's hunting knives, the small leather handle a comforting texture under his touch - but the comfort didn't amount to the comfort he felt when the blade was slowly guided across LJ's leg, the pricking hot and cold feeling bringing instant comfort.

How could something so looked down upon, so socially unaccepted be such a release? How could something so aesthetically displeasing to everyone else but LJ, become such a comfort?

LJ couldn't see that it was wrong - but he did see the looks people gave him when they had the rare chance to see what he'd done to himself; yet it wasn't enough.

Everyone was going to leave; LJ just had to be ready for it, so he'd keep them at arm's length, so when they turned away it didn't hurt so much. A defense mechanism, designed to protect himself against the people he loved and hated at the same time.

x-x-x

Dinner that night was eaten in silence, LJ slumped over himself scrawling in a small book, eating slowly. Sara knew something had to have happened while on her day off, that she'd spent visiting various bookstores and opp-shopping - which she'd enjoyed until she came home to a house full of tension.

"How was everyone's day?" Sara said around a mouthful of sasauge, "Yeah, eventful," Lincoln laughed, looking over at LJ who stood and left the table and wandered upstairs.

"LJ had.. a bit of a blow up at Mike today," Lincoln offered, and Michael jumped on it, "I don't even know why, he just told me he hated me, I guess he doesn't like the idea of.. Lincoln and I being together," Michael comprimised. "That might be my fault..." Sara admitted, remembering the night of the roof, "How so?" Lincoln asked, intruiged. "Well, a couple nights ago me and him sat on the roof and asked me if I noticed how.. close you to were, and I told him he should speak to you about it," Sara placed her fork and knife on her not quite empty plate and got up and moved toward the kitchen, afraid that they'd somehow get angry with her.

"Sara, he'd find out anyway," Lincoln followed her to the kitchen, "I'm just disappointed he finds it this hard to cope with," he finished.

Michael rose from his chair and headed for the stairs. Walking down the hallway that lead to Sara and Nick's bedroom, LJ's bedroom and the upstairs bathroom, Michael felt uneasy, slightly agitated and worried.

Only the worry increase a thousand times more when he opened LJ's door to find blood all over the floor, and LJ laying with his eyes closed, leaning against the side of the bed, blood all over him; gushing from a laceration that went from one side of his forearm to the other.

"SARA!" Michael screamed on instinct, her being a nurse and all, and within seconds she was by LJ's side, with Lincoln following closely behind.

"Get the car ready, Michael," Sara ordered, "Lincoln, get a towel, NOW!"

**Oh my. I somehow feel sort of bad for what I put LJ through. Oh well, he's a strong boy.**

**Thanks for reading, update will come next week some time!**


	11. This Wasn't Supposed To Happen

**A/N: Sorry for the late chapter. Got a bit off track, but now I'm back on it.**

**:)**

* * *

Lincoln impatiently paced the emergency room, they'd taken LJ two hours ago. LJ's blood had dried on his skin, and he desperately wanted a shower, to guiltily wash away the evidence that he'd wronged LJ in every way possible.

The walls were all too familar, and the silence screamed into Lincoln's bones.

Lincoln needed to get out, the walls were too close and he couldn't breathe, Michael had gone for coffee; leaving Linc alone with the worry that consumed him, sending him slowly insane. He tore through the automatic doors that lead into the ER, air hitting his lungs and he let out an exasperated sigh of relief. It was his fault LJ was in hospital; putting his love/hate relationship with everything in the world down to a normal teenage bevhaviour. Only cutting yourself and almost bleeding out wasn't considered a '_normal'_ teenage behavioural characteristic, and Lincoln knew that, worry grasping tightly around his stomach, making it hard to breathe and to function normally.

Michael snuck up behind Linc and slipped his arms around his waist, taking a hold of the front of his shirt and twisted it into seperate balls held tightly in his fist. Lincoln leaned into it; needing the affection like an addict when they needed a fix.

"He's going to be okay," Michael whispered into Linc's air, nudging his ear with his nose, "a little embarrassed and mentally unwell, but okay," Linc felt warmth pool inside him somewhere, feeling like those words hid a promise.

x-x-x

LJ lay in bed, his eyes closed and sunk into his head, his skin a ghostly shade of pale. An IV line held securely into his hand, supplying him with some fluid.

His eyes drifted open lazily; taking note that Lin was in the single chair, Michael leaning against the plain white walls, his hands stuffed into his pockets; an unconscious immitation of a poster LJ had on his wall at home.

"Dad," LJ breathed and LIncs head snapped up; within seconds he was standing beside the bed. "How you feelin'?" Linc asked, ignoring the question, LJ began to babble an apology that nobody in the room wanted to hear. "Hey, it's okay," Lincoln soothed "Just get better so we can take you home," he said, putting his hand on LJ's.

"I don't really think thats an option, Mr. Burrows," A womans voice said as she walked into a room. She looked very formal, hair in a tight bun, a tight business suit and black reading-glasses perched low on her nose.

Perfect timing, Michael noted as Sara walked in to the small room, holding two McDonald's bags, her face read confusion in the most complex level. "Whats going on?" She said, putting the bags on the chair.

"My name is Christina Mills, from the Mental Health Department," she said, shaking Michael, Lincoln and Sara's hands in turn, after the introductions and hand shaking, it was time for the serious stuff.

"LJ has to be re-located," Christina said, it wasn't ever easy to do this. "He needs a psychiatric evaluation, to determine why he tried to -" LJ cut her off, "Say I tried to kill myself and I will fucking headbutt you!" He growled, "LJ! Watch your mouth!" Lincoln snapped.

Christina ignored LJ's outburst, and explained to everyone what the procedure was; he was to be interviewed by a psychiatric doctor, then it would be determined if he needed to be held in the Mental Health Ward of the hospital. Lincoln obliged after Michael took the lead - he'd done this before and it was how he got diagnosed. Maybe LJ would be diagnosed, too.

x-x-x

"Hi, LJ," a man said, and LJ opened his eyes. Lincoln, Michael and Sara were asked to go grab some lunch while LJ had his evaluation. "My name is Dr. Harmsworth, but you can call me Ken," He smiled, taking a seat next to LJ.

"I'm not crazy," LJ stated.

"Do you _feel_ crazy, LJ?" Ken offered.

"No," LJ was fiddling with the cotton sheets.

"You tried to kill yourself?" Ken asked, obviously prodding.

"No, I didn't,"

"You cut into your muscle on your arm,"

"I don't know _why_ I did it, but it wasn't to kill myself, okay? I just did," LJ looked at Ken for the first time, he was a young man, about 30-or-so.

"So, it was like an impulse kind of thing?"

"I guess," LJ agreed.

"Do you do drugs? Smoke pot?" Ken was writing in a book he had.

"Sometimes," LJ started "Not anymore, since Dad came back,"

"Where was he?"

LJ didn't answer for a couple minutes, obviously weighing up the odds that if he told the man, LJ would be taken away again.

"Look, I'm not crazy, my Dad was in Fox River, I've been thrown from home to home, hit, bashed, hurt, broken, and back again. Sometimes I snap, in a second of hatred and I'll start yelling at screaming. I am constantly afraid that people are going to leave me. I've been cutting myself since I was 13, and no, It's not a problem. Are we done?" LJ was clearly angry now, so Ken agreed that they were done and set off to find Lincoln, Michael and Sara.

x-x-x

Ken had interviewed Sara and Linc, now it was Michael's turn; Michael felt like he was 18 again, being interviewed after stomaching a box of Xanax, obviously overdosing, which resulting in him locked in the Mental Unit of the local hospital - where he was diagnosed with Low Latent Inhibition Disorder.

"Hi, Michael, take a seat," Ken smiled, once again.

"Hi," Michael said, shaking the man's hand.

"Now, I'm sure you know whats going on, I just need to you ask you a few questions regarding LJ,"

"Go ahead,"

"I understand you were diagnosed with LLI at age 18?"

"I thought this was about LJ,"

"It is, just thought maybe you were a role-model for him, being able to understand him, you know?"

"Still,"

"Now, does LJ have frequent mood changes?"

"Yes. He goes from hating something to loving it within hours or days,"

"So, he has a very love-hate relationship with the world?"

"Yes."

"M'kay, how long has this been going on?"

"I've known LJ about 12 months, now?"

"What is your relation to him?"

Michael felt like this was an interview to see someone in prison all over again, the man's questions quickly agitating him.

"Family friend, I'm... involved with his father,"

"An intimate relationship?"

"Depends on your definition of 'intimate'."

"Sexually involved?"

"Me and Lincoln have never had sex," Michael wanted to get out, now, "Are we done?"

"Yeah, I've got all I need, thank you."

x-x-x

Lincoln watched as Michael wandered out of the interview room, his brow pulled down, he was deep in thought, again.

"Hey, how did it go?" Lincoln asked, taking a hold of Michael's hand. "Yeah, alright.. wont do it again anytime, soon, though," Michael smiled.

"Mr. Burrows," Dr. Harmsworth was walking down the hall, his shoes making an annoying sound against the floor. "A word, please?" He asked, and Lincoln told him if he had anything to say, it was to be done with Michael and Sara at his side.

"Okay," he said, "My thoughts on LJ are puzzling, but, I do have a theory," He stated, looking through his book, "Which is?" Lincoln asked, putting his hands out in front of himself as he leant on the window, placing his hands openly against the glass, looking at the doctor. "Skitzophrenia," Ken stated, and Lincoln turned towards him, standing over him.

"What? LJ does _not_ have skitzophrenia!" Lincoln argued, Michael's hand coming to rest on his arm - calming, but not enough to make the bubbling rage toward himself subside.

"How long 'till we can take him home?" Sara asked, just wanting to get out of the hospital - she was a nurse, it felt wrong that she was standing in a hospital and couldn't do anything for LJ.

"Well, we're going to take him over to the mental health part of the hospital for a couple days, give him a proper mental examination, then he should be free to go. Of course, he'll have to attend weekly psychiatrist sessions and take medication; but free,"

It didn't make sense to Lincoln; how could _anyone_ be free when they're being controlled by medication? How could LJ get better when he was sitting a room, pondering and brewing on it?

He was going to drive _himself_ crazy.

* * *

**Please review! **


	12. Appointments

**It's been far to long! Heres chapter 12, sorry for the delay. Don't eat me! D:**

**X-X-X-X-X-X-X**

He didn't like the silence, especially when it's this uncomfortable; the silence screaming at him more than Lincoln ever could. He didn't remember much, just taking a swing at his arm with the blade, his skin falling open and seeing the red and blue of the muscle, then spurts of blood. Too much blood, so he sat against the bed, trying desperately to hold his arm together.

"Hey man, you alright?" Lincoln asked, for the second time, "Fine," LJ whispered, half trying to convince himself. "You know, I never told you," Lincoln started, glancing away from the road to LJ, then decided that he couldn't do it, _not here, not in a car, not after you just picked him up from Hospital, you idiot! _Lincoln's brain rambled, so he pulled the car into the next carpark he saw, luckily one of which was connected to a Diner.

"C'mon," Lincoln said, turning the car off, and doing the three-touch-tap, checking for his wallet, keys and phone, before walking into the diner, LJ following not-so-closely behind, his arm still in that annoying white sling; the Doctor had said it could be months, or even years, before his muscle would be up for any hard work, having to attend Physiotherapy twice a week would hopefully help, though.

LJ found his Dad sitting in a booth at the furthest corner of the Diner, looking over the menu; a yellow peice of laminated paper with "Donnys" printed on the top. "What are we doing, Dad? I wanna go to bed..." LJ complained softly, unsure whether he should speak or not. "I never told you, and I was wrong for not doing so," Linc started, and LJ sighed, knowing he was in a speech of sorts. _'Not 'of sorts', definately a speech, filled with feelings and emotional shit,'_ LJ thought, feeling worn out, like his flame was barely burning. Too much emotional shit can wear you down?

"I'm not sure how to explain that you're father is in a same-sex relationship, or anything, but I think I should start by telling you how I feel?" LJ nodded, and Lincoln continued, "Ever since what... happened to Veronica... I've been kind of depressed, which is why I hate seeing it when you get down, or act violently towards yourself, which is why I didn't want to confuse you any more. I _really_ like Michael, LJ, I don't know why, but there's just... _something_ about him, something that soothed the ache when you were in hospital. I don't know how serious it is, but I hope one day it will become rather serious, you know?" Lincoln said, looking into the salt shaker as if were telling him what to say. LJ smiled, really _smiled_? "I know, Dad, I didn't mean to go off like I did... maybe I am skitzophrenic, or insane, I don't know, but I approve. Michael is a loving man, you two deserve that love," LJ said rather maturely. "You're not skitzophrenic, LJ," Lincoln said sternly, "I've made an appointment with a psychiatrist for tomorrow, who was very reluctant to see you because of you're age, but since you're 18 in a couple months, and now with a hospitilization under your belt, she agreed," Lincoln said optimistically.

LJ was scared, he didn't want to have to see all of these doctors, having people physco-analyze him or even have his own family scared to be around him.

x-x-x

Nick had been away, and today he was due to be coming back from his business-trip to Australia, so Sara felt it were normal to feel the empowering anxiety in her stomach. He'd know, he'd know what T-Bagg did to her, he'd know _why_ he couldn't touch her, why nobody could. Why her ember had stopped burning and why it hurt to see herself.

Finding sense in a senseless actions proved fruitless, and Sara had just about given up.

x-x-x

It's not supposed to matter, Michael acknowledges. The way his mouth moves, the way his hands meet when he's reading the paper. None of it is _supposed_ to matter.

But it does. Michael hates it.

He shouldn't have to close his eyes when Lincoln bends over, or when he's outside doing some yard work with his shirt off. Gay or not, any human _had_ to take in that beauty. Right?

Lincoln had gone to get LJ, Sara was shopping for something for dinner, and Michael was left to quickly tidy up, before heading to the shower.

Mist twirled up around his abdomen, drifting lazily against the water across there. Turning his face up against the spray, Michael's eyes drifted closed against the warm assault. Images of Lincoln filled the back of his eyelids, some of them with him in them, some sexual and some not.

It scared him, if he were honest. Terrified, even.

x-x-x

LJ coming home wasn't a miraculous party, he just went up to his room and laid in bed until dinner, eating in silence, and retreating to the solace of his bedroom once more.

"So, who is this Psychiatrist you're going to see with him tomorrow?" Sara asked Linc, who was halfway through chewing the pork Michael had cooked, "Um," Linc said as he stood and walked to the fridge, where the details of the appointment were held in place by a magnet. "Dr. Patten." Lincoln said, scanning the sheet of paper, "The appointment is at 11, so we should leave at about 9," He smiled.

Everyone was sleeping soundly, Nick had come home a couple hours before and spent almost an hour in the kitchen, which kept Michael in his room until the light went off and he could hear the soft thud of Nick's footsteps disappearing into his and Sara's bedroom.

x-x-x

Michael crept out of his room and across the hall, slowly opening Linc's door and then it became apparant how stupid it was. Lincoln and himself are grown _men_, not teenagers who have to sneak around their parent's backs.

"You awake?" Michael whispered into the darkness, and a small groan from Linc told him that he'd woken him up, so technically, yes, he's awake.

Michael crawled up the bed and lay against Lincoln's back, his chest pressed lightly against the muscular body. Lincoln twisted to face Michael, kissing his nose and wrapping his arms around him.

x-x-x

LJ and Lincoln had been a little late to the Psychiatrist appointment, but Dr. Patten had been okay with this, stating that today was considered a 'slow' day. She was pretty, with blask-ish purple hair and looked casual, wearing a black tank and jeans. Lincoln wasn't sure if she was a patient until she had introduced herself.

LJ liked the tattoos she had, 3 stars coloured in different colours on her forearm, feeling a pang of resentment at his big, purple scar that protruded at 30mm, as it said on the doctors report.

"Hi. I'm Doctor Patten, but you can call me Bekki. You must be LJ, right?" She asked, LJ nodded "And you must be Lincoln, LJ's Father." She smiled, shaking hands with the man that towered over her.

"Alright, shall we get started?" She asked, and LJ and Lincoln followed her into a rather comfortable room, closing the door behind them.


End file.
